“He worships his father,” said Hermione.

“How does he feel about his mother?”

“You’ve heard about it, then,” said Hermione. “I didn’t know the story had got about, and I preferred not to be the first to tell it. Of course he grieves over his mother’s conduct, but she is his mother, after all, and Agamemnon hasn’t treated her too well. Orestes is terribly unhappy. I’ve advised him at every stage—he has no one else to consult.”

“What’s the matter with his sister—what’s her name—Electra?” asked Menelaus.

“He can’t see her,” said Hermione. “She’s at home, in a very dangerous position, hoping to warn her father, or help him, when he gets back. She hurried Orestes out of the way as soon as Ægisthus became the head of the house; she said Ægisthus wouldn’t let him grow up to take revenge. That’s why he’s leading such an unsettled life; he’s hiding, yet watching for the moment his father will return and need him.”

“How long has all this been going on, Hermione?”

“Oh, several years. Just when Clytemnestra began to care for Ægisthus, nobody knows, of course, but they’ve been talked of for a long time, and about three years ago, I should say, she introduced him to every one as her true husband. That’s when he openly took possession of Agamemnon’s property, and Electra got Orestes safely out of the way. He came and asked me what to do. Our old gate-keeper wouldn’t let him in.”

“I understand that the visit, and other visits, took place, nevertheless,” said Menelaus. “Eteoneus regrets the unpleasantness. But I ought to tell you, if you don’t know it, that Orestes didn’t make a good impression on the gate-keeper. In fact, your cousin isn’t popular here. How do you explain it? You don’t want to marry a man who can’t get on with people. When your mother criticised him I stood up for him, naturally; she’s no judge of men. But I had in mind all the while the opinion of Eteoneus, and the old fellow is rather shrewd. Understand me, Hermione, I’m not against Orestes, but you ought to look at the thing from every point of view.”

“The trouble with Eteoneus, father, is his age. He thinks he can settle the affairs of the universe, and he has seen no more of the world than has come through your door. He lives on gossip—he was whispering about Clytemnestra before Orestes told me a word about it. How can he take the point of view of young people brought up as Orestes and I have been?”

“I wish you would tell me how you’ve been brought up,” said Menelaus; “it might perhaps reassure your mother.”

“I mean, we’ve been thrown on our own resources, and we know our own minds. It’s too late in the day to lead us by the hand. Our elders have made a mess of things; we’re the true conservatives. How could Eteoneus, with his head full of etiquette, lighten the burden Orestes is carrying?”